Lightning in a Bottle - Cover

Lightning in a Bottle

Copyright© 2012 by Sage Mullins

Chapter 27: Worlds Collide

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 27: Worlds Collide - Patrick O'Malley, a 44-year old former musician, is quite happy with his life as a twice-divorced, middle-aged playboy. Suddenly, he finds himself sent back in time to a point a few days past his 17th birthday. He also discovers that things are not quite the same this time around. The "violent" code applies only to a single incident. The FF is implied and happens off-screen.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Time Travel   DoOver   Interracial   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   School  

November 1, 1982

The first two months of my sophomore year had been a giant leap forward for me in many ways. I was, once again, doing quite well academically. After the halfway point of the semester, I was well on pace to receive mostly A's with perhaps a couple of B's. I'd managed to accomplish this even with my enhanced social life. I had fully emerged from my dark period with a new set of friends. And I also had a deepening relationship with a wonderful new girlfriend. I appeared to be well on my way toward achieving a much-longed-for steady state in this second chance at life.

But just when you think you've got it all figured out, life has a way of showing you another face.

I spent much of this day over on the main campus. I had a late afternoon class, and Julia had asked me to check on an exam grade for her. The grades were posted on the door to the professor's office. She had gotten an A; I knew that would make her very, very happy.

I was hungry, so I opted to have dinner alone at the main campus dining hall. It was now early evening, the tail end of an unseasonably warm Indian summer day. Darkness had fallen. I walked away from the dining hall in the direction of the lot where I'd parked my car, expecting to head straight back to the dorm. I made my way along a path which was separated from the parking lot be a row of tall shrubs.

Suddenly, I heard a girl's scream come from not too far away. And this was not an "Ew! A spider!" kind of scream. This was quite obviously a scream of distress, one of pain.

I forced my way through the shrubbery to see what was going on. I simply couldn't believe my eyes. A man – and a poor excuse for one at that – was in the process of taking a swing at a young woman, right there in a dark, secluded corner of the parking lot. The punch landed right below her left eye. She screamed again, and leaned over forward, sobbing in pain. The asshole then delivered a brutally forceful kick right into her ribs. She tried to scream again, but appeared to be gasping for breath.

Nothing – nothing – pisses me off more than the thought of a woman being physically abused by a man. This was completely unacceptable. I had to do something. I moved quietly but swiftly in their direction.

By now, the girl was fully doubled over, as the douche bag aimed another punch at her face. I got there just in time; he never saw me coming. I grabbed the offending right arm before he could throw the punch. With a quickness and force that I didn't know I had in me, I put the guy in a headlock. Then, I twisted his arm behind his back, and twisted it some more, until it reached a point where something had to give. A loud, sickening crack informed me that I'd broken a bone in his arm. The coward yelled out in pain, as I released my grip. He proceeded to run away, holding his wrecked arm, cursing and shouting as he left.

I was simply dazed. I didn't know which way was up at that point. I asked myself, Did that really just happen?

And then, I happened to glance down at the girl, the victim, who was now kneeling down on the ground, wheezing in pain. Had I not arrived on the scene, she might have fared even worse. She looked up at me. Her face was battered. But the eyes looked all too familiar. I immediately recognized the long, beautiful dark hair that surrounded that damaged face. Here she was again, that youthful beauty and middle-aged hag all wrapped up in one, whose role in my existence I was completely unable to decipher.

She was Inez. And it was obvious that she recognized me, as well.

At that instant, I experienced a monumental shift in what I felt was important in this second life.

She didn't deserve this. I didn't care if she'd somehow conspired to send me back in time. I'd pretty much moved away from that line of thinking, anyhow. But it didn't matter if she was the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz. She simply did not deserve this kind of treatment.

And on top of that, I was ashamed of myself. Right after I'd been sent back, I'd blamed Inez, and vowed payback. What kind of payback?

The kind she'd just been brutally dealt?

No. I wasn't like that. But there was more to consider. I could do something positive here. It had been treatment like this, in the other timeline, that had rendered Inez bitter, unhappy, and friendless. Perhaps, tonight, I'd done something to help counteract that in this timeline, in which she seemed to be thriving. And if I could take some further action to help prevent the angry, unpleasant Inez from ever existing in this life ... wouldn't that be the sweetest payback of all?

Inez continued to look up at me, her pain tinged with uncertainty. I sensed that she was cowering slightly, wondering if I'd continue what the other guy started. To put her mind at ease on that matter, I squatted down across from her, and spoke to her gently.

"You need medical attention. If you like, I can call someone to come and help. Or else, I'll be happy to drive you to the campus infirmary in my car."

"Where's your car?" Inez managed to get out through labored breathing.

"Right over there," I said, pointing at my Datsun. "It's close by."

"Let's go," she replied. "No infirmary though. Danny will go there. I don't want to see him. Take me to the downtown hospital." Her words were chopped and delivered with great difficulty.

"That was Danny?" I asked, distaste dripping from my words. Inez nodded in affirmation. Sadly, Eileen's hunch had proven to be right on the money.

"Let me help you up," I directed, offering her my hand. She took it, and with my aid rose up into a standing position, but the pain was almost more than she could bear.

"Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!" she screamed, then started to sob. Christ! I looked around fearfully. I was no doctor! What if she had a punctured lung? I knew that was a frequent complication from broken ribs. But there was no one nearby to lend a hand. I was on my own.

"Can you walk?" I asked her. She nodded again, and was in fact able to walk gingerly. I offered her my arm for assistance; she held on to my forearm, and we made our way slowly to my car. Every so often, I took a look over my shoulder, just in case the broken-armed Danny had any thoughts about returning to the scene for revenge. I opened the car door, and adjusted the passenger seat back into a full reclining position. I figured it would be more comfortable for her.

I directed her to sit down and lie back. This process was quite painful for her as well; she cried out in agony once again. But once she was firmly inside, she appeared to feel a little better. The side of her face was quite swollen and discolored, however. I had an idea.

"I'll be back in just a second," I said to Inez. "I want to get something for you."

Nearby was a soda machine. I put in a quarter and pressed the most convenient button; I didn't care which brand came out. I brought the ice-cold can back to the car and handed it to Inez.

"There's no ice in sight, so this will have to do. Hold it against the swelling."

"Thank you," she mouthed.

I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the hospital, about two miles away. She began to cry softly; I suspected it was from emotional pain as much as physical.

Damn that dickwad Danny! I thought.

Eventually, she settled down and grew quiet, and we rode on in silence. When I stopped at a red light, I caught Inez looking in my direction.

"And so," she said weakly, "we meet again."

"I think," I offered in reply, "that you and I should just start over from the beginning. Deal?"

Inez nodded.

"I'm Pat O'Malley, college sophomore, business major, former keyboardist, and occasional asshole." That remark actually brought the faintest traces of a smile to her lips.

Finally, I pulled up in front of the hospital's emergency entrance, as close to the door as possible.

"I hate hospitals," remarked Inez listlessly.

"Let's get those injuries taken care of, okay?" I told her in a soothing voice, offering a smile, concealing the fact that I was still quite shaken up over what I'd just witnessed.

I was worried that we'd have to wait a while before Inez was tended to, but thankfully, that concern was unfounded. A couple of hospital staff members passed by while I was helping her out of the car. They noticed the pain she was in, and immediately called for a stretcher. They swiftly wheeled her into a treatment room. I tagged along, and waited outside in the hallway.

A nurse came outside shortly to get some information from me. She asked me a curious question, which I suppose was standard procedure.

"What is your relationship to the patient?"

"Um, we have mutual friends," was the best reply I could come up with.

The nurse wrote "Friend" on her clipboard. I made no move to dispute that.

"How's she doing?" I asked.

"They're checking her out now. We'll know more shortly."

"Keep me posted, okay?" The nurse assured me that she would.

But now what? Who to get in touch with on Inez's behalf? I knew that she had an aunt and uncle in the area, but I didn't even know their names. Then I thought of the one person who might be able to help me: Eileen.

I found a pay phone, and dialed our home number. Collect. Mom answered; I asked to speak with my sister.

"She's out right now at the mall," said Mom. "Why are you calling collect, anyway? Is everything okay?"

Of course, I didn't want Mom to know I was calling from the hospital. I explained that I was away from the dorm, and that I just needed to ask Eileen a couple of questions.

"Gotta go, Mom," I uttered hastily. "Tell Eileen to call me later."

Shit. What now? I guess I would have to wait.

About thirty minutes later, the nurse came out. I asked her if she knew anything.

"She has a bad bruise on her face," she explained, "but no broken bones there. Her worst injury is a punctured lung from three broken ribs. That idiot really nailed her. But she's resting right now, and will be fine in time. Also, you should be prepared. The police have been called, and will probably want to speak with you in the next day or so."

I'd be happy to speak with the cops. I hoped they wouldn't give me any shit about breaking Danny's arm, though.

"Can I maybe go in and see her?" I asked the nurse.

"Let me check and make sure it's okay." A minute or two later, she returned and nodded at me.

"Go ahead in. We got in touch with her roommate, and she's on the way."

I knew that Inez's roommate was one Evie Haines, and I didn't want any awkward moments right now. Because of that, I had no desire to stick around. But I wanted to wish Inez well. She was lying in a bed, partially covered with a white bed sheet, with an IV apparatus hooked up, and breathing tubes inserted in her nose.

"How do you feel now?" I asked her, standing at the foot of her bed.

"Like shit. But I'll live. Or so they tell me."

"I just wanted to drop in and check on you. I have to get going. Take care of yourself, okay?" I made a move toward the door.

"Pat?" she croaked, as I touched the door handle. I turned around.

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